


Never, Always & Forever

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Blood Play, F/M, Fluff, Knife Play, Non-Con Roleplay, Restraint, Roleplay, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 16:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19213414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: It's what he craves.





	Never, Always & Forever

It’s an uneasy feeling, creeping under his skin like a slow rash. The first time, it had taken weeks for him to figure it out what he needed, what his mind craved enough to affect him physically. Sam always kept an iron tight grip on his control but that was the very root of his problem.

The room is dark, not that he can see anything beyond the blindfold tied tightly enough behind his head that it’s tugging on the hair caught around his ears. He’s sweating - the room is warm but it’s his nerves that make him perspire so much that his shirt clings to his skin.

Sometimes he thinks she likes that he’s so slick when he’s been waiting for her.

Sam didn’t know where she got the spell she used to knock him unconscious; he thinks it’s probably Rowena’s doing and he hoped the witch doesn’t know what it’s for. This was his secret, well, his and Y/N’s. 

The first time, she’d barely touched him and he’d said the safe word, panic overriding everything else. Her fingers were shaking when she freed him and they spent three hours just cuddling, his nose buried in her hair and the warmth of her body calming his nerves.

His trust in her was complete. But it never stopped his mind reacting in certain ways to the situation presented.

The door to the room opened and closed and Sam went stiff, the chair creaking with his weight. He was fully-dressed this time - an unusual choice for her - but whenever he asked for this, the time and circumstances were always different.

She kept him on his toes, somehow knowing what he needed.

Her soft sigh made him lift his head, wrists tugging at the bindings holding him to his seat. She was only a few feet away, still near the door according to his senses.  Sam can feel her nervousness from here; she’s always just as nervous as him.

That’s why he trusts her.

Y/N didn’t speak when she crossed the room toward him, stopping close enough that he can feel the heat of her body against his legs. There was maybe an inch or so between them and Sam wanted to touch her but that’s not what this was about.

When her fingertips touch his face, he jumps, too focused on her scent to catch the movement before it happened. He lifted his head in response just as her thumb caressed his bottom lip, hissing when the pad caught the cut on his lip from the previous hunt.

Sam hadn’t dodged a punch in time and it had been hard enough to floor him. She’d been scared when he went down, put herself in the line of fire to protect him. Part of the reason he loved her so fiercely was her fiery nature and determination to win.

A soft sigh left her lips and her hand left his face.

“Say no,” she whispered.

Sam swallowed, taking a deep breath through slightly parted lips before he replied. “No.”

“Again,” she ordered.

“No.”

Y/N sank down onto his lap, the heat of her bare thighs almost searing him through his jeans. His body reacted without his permission - he’d never been able to control that reaction to her proximity. He didn’t know how much clothing she was wearing but his mind was providing plenty of visuals. The only issue he had with this was knowing it was her - it always aroused him.

“Such a pretty boy,” she murmured, dragging her nose along his jaw. Sam’s breath caught in his throat when she pressed her forehead against his cheek, the cold sting of metal against his forearm. A happy little hum escaped her and the knife on his arm shifted, the point pressing in just below his elbow.

“What do you want?” he grunted, the tip of the blade breaking the skin.

Holding the knife steady, Y/N rolled her hips over his lap, making him groan. “I want you, Sam,” she replied, watching the blood bead up underneath the sharp edge. “I always want you,” the knife moved, breaking more of his skin and Sam hissed, “and I won’t lose you.”

Oh.

Sam’s next breath was shaky. He hadn’t anticipated that she needed this, that his recklessness had frightened her. This was as much about her control as it was his; they were both terrified of losing each other.

Hunters in love. A star-crossed romance that only ended one way.

Y/N always said that all love ended that way. “Death comes for us all,” was her morose saying, one Dean often mocked her for because she’d got it from Game Of Thrones.

“You were stupid,” she murmured, pulling the knife along his arm a little further. The cut wasn’t deep, only enough for blood to trickle down over his skin but it was enough to make Sam’s cock throb in his pants. “You could have been killed.”

“I know, I’m -”

Her finger covered his lips. “Quiet.” Sam closed his mouth, swallowing his apology. “Remember when we first tried this?” The smile in her voice was clear. “You were so skittish. Shaking all over. And I hated it. I hated making you feel so frightened of me.” 

Guilt made his stomach churn and Sam tried to lift his head but her fingers stopped him. 

“You got me addicted, Sam,” she purred, pulling the knife away from his arm. “Having you? This powerful hunter at my mercy -” Her core dragged over his crotch and Sam almost lurched when her lips brushed over his earlobe. “I could do anything and you can’t stop me.”

The knife pressed into his collarbone and Sam felt a real tremor of concern. His heart raced, the sweat on his skin dripping down to pool in the dip at the base of his throat. 

“But I don’t think you would stop me,” Y/N continued, grasping the collar of his shirt with one hand, the other gripping the knife to drag it through the fabric. It was razor sharp, making nothing more than a slight ripping sound as she carved it up. “I don’t think you’d ever want to stop me now.”

Sam pulled at his bonds, finding them tightly and expertly tied, like he expected. Y/N climbed off of his lap, slicing the last of his shirt off. A small part of him hoped it wasn’t the green flannel - he liked that one.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered in a light tone as she fisted the material of his t-shirt, cutting the knife down the middle of the fabric. “It’s the ruined stuff you wore for painting a couple weeks ago.” He smiled a little, before yelping when the blade caught his belly.

Y/N didn’t stop, removing the cloth to leave his torso bare. The slight cut on his belly itched and when she crawled between his thigh, her mouth covering the injury, Sam couldn’t help but moan at the sensation.

She unbuttoned his pants, drawing the zip down slowly. Sam’s cock twitched inside the constraints of the fabric and he groaned quietly. “Y/N -”

“Sssh.” Her quiet order silenced him, the point of the knife pressing against his belly. His arms strained again, panic flourishing in his chest. “You’re breathing really heavily, baby. You want me to stop?” The edge in her voice said that she wouldn’t stop if he asked and Sam held his breath as the knife moved.

The denim was harder to cut through than the shirts had been and Sam ground his teeth together when the blade scraped his thighs, not breaking the skin. Y/N worked quickly, quietly, eventually leaving him in only his torn boxers. The knife clattered to the floor as she gripped the remaining fabric in both hands, tearing it away and leaving red welts across his thighs.

His cock sprang free, bouncing against his belly and Y/N smiled, running her hands over his thighs. “See?” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his shaft, eliciting a little mewl from his dry lips. “You like it.”

Sam’s teeth ground together when she squeezed him tightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make the head of his dick throb. She didn’t do anything else, just held him, and Sam didn’t need his vision to know she was smiling at him.

Releasing him, Y/N walked away. He could hear her rummaging around, his mind racing with the possibilities of what she was doing - she was usually inventive with these games. The not knowing was the worst part for him and Y/N knew it. She’d make him wait until he was almost bursting to ask what she was up to.

Despite that, he always craved the experience again. The loss of control was addictive, soothing…

Something cool touched the tip of his cock and Sam sucked in a breath, jolted out of his thoughts. “Did I lose your attention, Sam?” Her tone was amused.

“N-no,” he stuttered, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he felt what he was ninety-percent sure was a cock ring, slide down over his dick, Y/N’s fingers maneuvering the thin plastic down until it was snug around the base. Sam released a breathy grunt, his chest heaving and sweat starting to irritate his skin.

“Good,” Y/N whispered, releasing him. She remained in front of him, watching him shudder and shake with the intensity of his arousal. The cock ring was tight around his shaft, making each vein almost pop with the strain. Pre-cum dribbled lazily from the slit at his tip - Y/N licked her lips, holding back from tasting him.

Sam was hovering in a state of pure bliss. His eyes closed behind the blindfold as he felt his cock throb in response to the tightness at the base, the pressure preventing any thought of an orgasm. It didn’t stop the build up, didn’t stop the agony of how fucking good it felt.

Need settled in his throat like he was being choked and his head rolled back, his drawn out moan of pleasure echoing around the room.

Y/N straddled him and Sam felt her heat against his thighs. She’d removed whatever clothing she’d been wearing, although he suspected it hadn’t been much. “I’m gonna ride you, Sam,” she trailed a finger down his cheek, the whisper of fabric against his skin, “and I need you to be a good boy. Be quiet,” the fabric pressed against his lips, her fingers forcing his mouth to open, “and don’t cum.”

He could taste her on the material - she’d stuffed her panties in his mouth.

Sam groaned, feeling her hand journey down his chest, her nail scratching lightly over his skin. Y/N laughed quietly when she took hold of his dick, dragging the swollen head through her folds.

“Feel how wet I am?” she hummed, guiding him inside her body enough for his eyes to roll in pleasure. Her thighs clenched against his as she kept lowering herself onto his cock, pulling up when there was too much resistance from her tight channel.

The panties in his mouth muffled his grunts, her moans significantly louder as she fucked her hips down, slowly taking every inch of him inside. His stomach churned, that edge of bliss he’d been hovering on making his heart race and breath quicken.

When she was fully seated on his lap, cock buried to the hilt inside her, Y/N stopped, resting her forearms on Sam’s broad shoulders. She could feel the tension under his skin, coiled in his muscles; his nostrils flared as he breathed heavily through his nose.

His cock twitched, making her whimper. “Don’t cum, Sam. You’ll ruin the game.”

Sam could only groan when she started to ride him, the smack of her ass against his hips bouncing off the walls. She ignored his noises, using him for her pleasure as Sam tried desperately to hold back his climax. It hurt; the cockring dug into his shaft and his balls ached for release.

Y/N got hers first. He was almost screaming behind the panties stuffed in his mouth when he felt her walls squeeze him, her movements growing easier with her climax. Dizziness clouded his head, his hips jerking involuntarily and Y/N stopped, letting her full weight fall on him.

“I can feel you,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his. “You’re so deep, Sam. I can feel you, almost breaking me inside.” He groaned deeply, almost choking on the panties when she abruptly pulled off, leaving his swollen manhood to twitch between his thighs.

The blindfold was torn off; Sam blinked rapidly, disorientated as he tried to gather his bearings. Y/N stood in front of him, naked and smiling.

“Your turn.” Her fingers grasped the base of his dick, slowly rolling the cockring back up. Sam growled, looking down at the bright red ring it left before his eyes met hers. Y/N plucked the panties from his mouth; he instantly tried to work up some saliva to relieve the dryness they left behind.

Sam remained quiet and still as she untied him, flexing his wrists to get some of the feeling back. She returned to standing in front of him, her eyes on his thick cock, the angry swollen head practically dribbling. He reached out, pulling her toward him, wordlessly begging her.

Y/N straddled him again, his cock easily sinking back inside her. She gasped when Sam grabbed her shoulders, one hand sliding through her hair, the other heading south to cup her ass. “Fuck me,” she whined.

He didn’t answer but he obeyed, lifting her up and down, his hips rutting up to meet each stroke. It was only minutes before the pressure in his gut returned, the need to cum warring with the lack of permission.

“Cum inside me, Sam,” Y/N begged, her lips ghosting across his.

The sound he made was primal - his fingers dug into her scalp, his mouth crushing into hers. Y/N held on, riding his climax until his entire body shuddered and he went slack.

Sam barely acknowledged her when she pulled off, cleaning them both up. His head tipped back, the intensity of his orgasm almost rendering him unconscious. Grabbing his hand, Y/N pulled him off the chair and toward the bed; Sam became pliant, collapsing onto the mattress, asleep in seconds.

Hours later, he woke slowly, his head cushioned against bare breasts, Y/N’s fingers gliding through his hair. He sighed, nuzzling into her happily. His whole body ached in the best ways possible; he was basking, reveling in the moment that would only last until they opened the bedroom door again.

“How are you feeling?” Y/N asked, kissing the top of his head. Stubbornly, he kept his eyes closed, listening to her heartbeat under his ear.

“Good,” he whispered, wrapping one arm around her waist. “Thank you.”

She smiled, keeping up the almost hypnotic rhythm through his long locks. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I feel like I do.”

“You don’t,” Y/N assured him, sliding her other hand up to cup his cheek and force him to look at her. “You never have to thank me for anything, Sam. I’m here for you. Always.” She leaned down, straining her neck to kiss him softly. “Forever.”


End file.
